


Pleasure

by NotEvenCloseToStraight



Series: Good Omens [1]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Pet Names, Short & Sweet, Slow Romance, Sort Of, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, good omens - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 07:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19313011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: At their usual bench in the park, Crowley shares a moment of sweet pleasure with his angel





	Pleasure

**Author's Note:**

> Uh yes, hello. Welcome to my new obsession. Usually I'm a Marvel girl, but I sat and watched all of Good Omens today and am now on my second time through and I am In Love with their love so here is a fic.

“It’s not so terrible, you know.” Crowley said in that absent minded, casual way he said nearly everything. “You don’t have to frown at them like that.” 

“I’m not frowning.” Aziraphale frowned, and then cleared his throat and smoothed his features and tried again. “See? Not frowning.” 

“But you were.” Crowley tipped his head back, arching an elegant eyebrow over the ever present black glasses. “Just now. I saw you.” 

“I wasn’t!” 

“You were.” 

“I wasn’t!” 

“Alright then, you  _wasn’t_.” The demon could be so aggravating sometimes, baring his teeth in a smile that was nearly a sneer. “But you were at least  _glaring_  and if you ask me, that’s rather unangelic, don’t you think?” 

“I wasn’t glaring, either.” Aziraphale straightened his vest with one of those self important sniffs. “I simply think– and I know others agree– that the public park isn’t a place for– for  _passion_  expressed in quite that manner.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with desire and pleasure, Angel.” Crowley’s voice dipped over  _angel_ , just like it always did and Aziraphale hummed a bit nervously. “And nothing wrong with seeking it out, even in public. Their clothes were on, let’s thank all the appropriate beings for  _that_  small mercy.” 

“I’m quite sure there are entire passages of various scriptures dedicated to exactly why we should avoid those types of things.” he maintained, sitting impossibly straighter on the bench as if perfect posture would lend extra credence to his words. “And in six thousand years of human existence, I’ve yet too see a single good thing come from chasing whole heartedly after what one desires and indulging in wild…  _pleasure_.” 

“Babies.” A thin shoulder lifted in fell in a careless shrug. “Babies are a result of chasing desires and indulging in pleasures.”

“Babies are not a reasonable manner of argument for anything but the conversation of protected coitus.” Aziraphale said stiffly and Crowley nearly shouted with laughter, just like he always did when he could coax even a little sass from the angel. 

“That’s quite enough of that.” Crossly now, the angels posture impossible straight, his hands folded tightly in his lap. “You don’t have to laugh at me.” 

“I’m sure we’ve established that I’ll be laughing at you at least until the next Armageddon.” Crowley slumped down in the bench and spread his knees, taking up far more room than he needed to. “So you’ve never tried it, then?” 

“Tried  _what_?” Aziraphale was still cross, huffing at Crowley’s inelegant slouch. 

“Desire and pleasure.” The glasses were for more than hiding Crowley’s snake eyes, they also afforded him the chance to watch his angel without being noticed, and his lips curled in a smile when a dusting of pink spread from Aziraphale’s cheeks clear to his ears. “You’ve never tried it?” 

“Well I– I–” 

“You should try it.” 

“Crowley, I–” 

“Let me show you.” 

“ _What_?” Aziraphale jerked around so quickly he nearly slid right off the bench and onto the grass. “ _What_  did you say?” 

“Let me show you.” Crowley said again, as lazy a sentence as he’d ever said in his life, gaze fixed determinedly on some far point in the park as if his heart wasn’t pounding in his chest. “Seems as if you should experience it with someone you trust and despite all your indignation and rules about cavorting with a demon, I  _know_  you trust me.” 

“I– I do trust you.” There was a shimmer in the air just behind Aziraphale, and Crowley tilted his head and squinted, just barely able to make the outline of wings. 

His angel was  _nervous_ , hardly able to keep his wings hidden and that was impossibly endearing, nearly as sweet as the blush still lingering on the porcelain skin. 

“I just don’t see how you and I could– how we could possibly– I don’t understand–” Aziraphale was waving his hands a touch wildly, his eyes wide and hair askew as if Crowley’s suggestion had alarmed even the perfectly styled curls. 

“I don’t mean like  _that_.” Crowley inclined his head towards the couple that had started this entire conversation, college students stretched out on the grass by the lake and thoroughly engrossed in each others mouths and tongues and any bit of skin available without undressing each other. “Sure you know pleasure isn’t only like  _that_.” 

“Well– of course I do.” It was  _highly_  unangelic for Aziraphale to lie and any other time, the demon would have called him on it. “I am aware there are other ways to find… to find pleasure but I still don’t understand–” 

“Trust me, angel.” 

Making them invisible to human eyes took only a tiny miracle and Crowley accomplished it with a snap of his fingers and a quick breath and in the  _next_  breath, he had straightened up and slid across the bench to he and his angel were knee to knee, thigh to thigh, close enough for Crowley to see the tiny laugh wrinkles around Aziraphale’s eyes and in the corners of his mouth. 

“Do you trust me?” 

“…I trust you.” 

“Let me show you.” He let his voice drop deep again, nearly a growl so his angel would sigh in that soft, secret way he only did when he thought Crowley couldn’t hear. “Let me show you pleasure.” 

They didn’t touch often, not skin to skin at least, and Crowley found himself holding his breath as he brought his fingers carefully  _carefully_  to Aziraphale’s temples, brushing his thumbs against the soft cheeks and closing his eyes to focus on sending his angel  _pleasure_. 

_The perfect lines of a beautiful car. Leather seats against skin.The thrill of taking a corner too fast. The sound of  asphalt beneath wheels. The perfect song cranked on a long drive. The freedom of an endless road. The roar of an engine that travels up your body and into your very soul. Sunshine through a windshield._

_The smile of the one you love next to you, as the light shines through blonde curls and sparkles on perfect skin and you push the engine faster just to see the excitement in his eyes._

The last thought slipped through accidentally but Crowley couldn’t find in himself to care as Aziraphale gasped, a hand landing heavy and  _warm_  rather north of Crowley’s knee as the angel swayed forward and then caught himself. 

“See?” It was at least a moment before Crowley could speak again, caught unawares by the  _intimacy_  lying weighted in the air between them. “Pleasure.” 

“Oh my.” Aziraphale had yet to open his eyes or to even move his hand and it took a touch more miracle for Crowley to keep them invisible so no annoying human would break the spell. “That was– that is to say, you are–” 

Another moment where the angel tried to gather himself, and when he spoke he stunned Crowley speechless with his simple, “As I understand it, it’s quite rude for one person to receive pleasure and not to–not to give it as well, is that correct?” 

“ _Angel_.” Crowley breathed and it was his turn sigh perhaps more shakily than he would want to admit when Aziraphale’s fingers came to rest at his temples, soft and nearly a blessing, if that was a word the demon could use. A blessing and then pressure as the angel eased forward into his mind and Crowley forced himself to relax, to just  _feel_  and–

 _ **Oh**_.

_The weight of a favorite book in your palms. The warmth of the bookshop as home. The crispness of a page as it turns. Discovering new texts and re-reading the old ones. The delight of a perfect crepe. The sweetness of sun ripened berries. The way whipped cream settles so sweetly on your tongue and always leaves you wanting more._

_My favorite wine shared with my favorite being, yellow and black eyes that are brilliantly sharp growing hazy and soft with laughter, a nickname that is only his. Nightingale._

“Nightingale.” He managed and Aziraphale’s smile was soft and shy, his eyes drawn over Crowley’s shoulders where the demon’s wings were shimmering, barely contained. “Is that was you call me, my angel?” 

“Perhaps in my quiet moments.” Aziraphale allowed, and then, “… _your_  angel?” 

Crowley didn’t answer, didn’t think he could answer, but he leaned close enough for their mouths to nearly touch, close enough for their noses to bump and swept his fingers across his angels temple again, letting Aziraphale feel the full force of  _desire_ , of  _pleasure_  associated with a single word. 

 _ **Mine**_. 

 _ **Mine**_. It echoed back, his angels fingers in his hair to keep him close and there they sat together for a long time, invisible to any and all that passed by, wings shimmering and fluttering in the air around them, two souls lost in a quiet moment together. 


End file.
